


Missing Pieces

by magicasen



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Cosmic Cube, Fix-It, M/M, Skrull(s), Ults Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 15:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12390630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen
Summary: The Ultimates' new lease in life is to hunt down the stray Cosmic Cubes of the multiverse. Of course, Cosmic Cubes can grant wishes, and what could go wrong with bringing Steve Rogers back to life?





	Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 16/10! I'm 20 minutes late, but I think it should still count! 
> 
> This takes place after Ultimates² (Ultimates Squared) #100. For a run-down of that issue: Ults Reed (he's evil) brings the Ultimates back to life (they had previously all died before Secret Wars...probably). Poor Steve gets vaporized by Ults Reed after the Ultimates betray him, but the rest of the Ultimates live and now they're traveling the multiverse and are involved with Eternity/the Celestials...I think! I'm not that familiar with that part of the Marvel verse, so forgive the hand-waving in here!

“Tony?” Steve kneaded his temple with his fingers, proving how out of it he was, that he hadn't hopped out of the Cosmic Cube raring to punch the first vaguely fascist shape that moved.

The Cosmic Cube that had vanished into thin air, and Tony flexed his gauntlet, but no, it hadn't turned invisible or anything of the sort. Just...gone.

Steve's fingers stilled abruptly, and his eyes darted between the ceiling, corners, and floor of the room strewn with corpses and blood.

Aliens, Tony would to offer, if his throat wasn't suspiciously choked up. Humanoid aliens, but still aliens.

“What in the—” Steve cleared his throat, “what the _hell_ did you do?”

“Oh, you have no idea how happy it makes me to be berated,” Tony said.

It was lovely, seeing Steve's face twitch through a myriad of emotions, like he wasn't sure whether Tony was referring to a _sex thing_ or not.

God, but he had missed him.

“Let's get out of here, I think there are still some pissed aliens or their crazy murderbots coming after us.”

“Another invasion?” Steve stripped a corpse of its laser gun, testing its heft.

“Mm, not invasion's not the right word when we're on their planet.”

Steve's silence spoke of his irritated bafflement, but it warmed Tony's heart that he followed Tony out of the room without a moment's hesitation.

They were half a mile under sea level. Jan was in the control room, Hulk had cleared the path ahead for them, and Hank was manning his new army of alien shrimp-crab hybrids from their escape vessel. Oh, and Tony's armor was grounded for the time being, after a bullet had clipped him and left his battery leaking like a faucet.

But Steve was with him, and for once it looked like they were going to make it out.

The door slid open, revealing a massive, cylindrical room. Some sort of central reactor, with a large pillar in the middle and half a dozen suspended walkways connected to it. What they were suspended over, who knew—there was no bottom as far as Tony could see.

The room was the stuff of Clint's fantasies, although Tony's sensors didn't pick up anything, but who knew how much that counted for. When you were in an alternate universe in an alien galaxy, it was hard to know what to trust.

According to the floor plans he'd gotten from Jan, who he'd lost contact with several hundred feet above, they wanted to take a straight shot to the other side.

Tony's boots clanked against the metal grating, and the bridge jarred beneath his weight.

They were three-quarters of the way through when the bridge rocked. Tony grabbed for the railing before the next lurch threw him to the floor and he realized the whole room was moving.

A goddamned earthquake, at this time? The shaking threatened to throw him off, and the best Tony could do was crawl, grabbing bar after bar on the side of the bridge before flattening himself at the next shock. He was keenly aware of every creak and rattle around him, until there was a boom from above.

The walkway wobbled precariously, but they were almost at the other side.

“You with me?” Tony turned around to find Steve behind him.

At the other end of the walkway, the pillar cracked, followed in seconds by several more spider cracks. The end of their railing deformed quickly, and the end snapped off.

“Steve!”

Steve rushed forward, and Tony's world upended itself as he heard Steve's roar.

Tony crashed onto the far corridor, scrambling onto safe ground, his head spinning from being tossed like a rag doll.

His mind caught up, and Tony shouted, getting to his feet, just in time to watch the ceiling finish collapsing and a flood of water drop into the room, taking Steve with it.

* * *

Vaporized, beheaded, and now drowned.

They'd joked about it before, about how the universe had it out for Steve Rogers, but they hadn't been quite right. The goddamned _multiverse_ had it out for him. 

In their newly appointed position of hunting down Makers, which mostly meant tracking down stray Cosmic Cubes, said Cosmic Cubes had brought their Steve back a few times. Of course, their Steve had never managed to last longer than half an hour post-revival.

Tony wasn't sure how many more times he could watch him die.

“Maybe it's just how things are supposed to be,” Hank mused, drumming his fingers on the console. “With Rogers,” he clarified.

“If you really think that, please throw yourself out of the airlock,” Jan told him.

Hank held up his hands. “I'm just saying. Maybe some people are meant to stay in their own universe. Defenders of the realm or that bull. It's not like Thor's here, either.”

Thor. Tony missed that son of a bitch, his grating way of speech, how he'd proselytize to a rock if given the chance. His blind trust in whatever he'd deemed worthy. Somehow, that list had included Tony.

Funny; they'd locked him up in an asylum for his rantings on the gods and how Earth was going to self-immolate, and then he'd ended up being right.

Some higher being was laughing at them, the Ultimates stripped down to the two people they'd kicked off the damn team, the mutant, and Tony. He genuinely liked Jan, but Hulk scared the crap out of him, and Hank made him feel tainted by association.

Their crew were less Star Trek or Firefly and more _Big Brother: In Space._

The space part almost made it worth it. Tony didn't even know how much he had wanted this until he had watched the stars zip by, their exploration not held back by human limitations. Space used to be bad news, harbinger of shape-shifting aliens and giant purple men who'd suck up their planet through a straw. This, though? Hunting, exploring, defending?

Tony thought that maybe even Steve would have liked it.

“So,” Tony said, “where's our next destination, crew?”

“Looks like we've got the pick of the lot.” Jan scanned her console. There's a Universe 616, 3490, 562, 12041...”

“Surprise me, darling.”

“Hulk wants french fries.”

“Well, let's hope they have McDonald's where we're going,” Tony said, as he flipped the wormhole switch ( _wormhole switch!)_ on the control panel, and the world outside went white.

* * *

Tony ducked behind the wall, and he felt the pounding of shots through the metal.

The shit part of this team setup: you had to learn to go without backup when there were only four of you. Then a spaceship showed up, and no one in their right mind would send Hulk in there, and what the hell would Hank's growth spurts do, send them all spiraling into the vacuum of space?

So it was down to two, and who ever imagined Tony was cut out for spy work?

There was only so many places to go on a spaceship, and Jan was the only one who could sneak into their operations room, so it fell to Tony to sabotage Engineering. Too cramped for any maneuverability, and he so did hate having to destroy such gorgeous machinery.

But destroyed it had been, and now he was drawing all the fire from the crew. Tony leaned around, blasting several of the crew members in the gut, before aiming upwards and taking out enough overhead bridges and supports to make getting to him much more difficult. But, even that brief glance told him there was only so much longer he could hold them off for.

He'd been hit by one of their pulses already, and it had not been a pleasant ordeal. If he wasn't in mortal danger, he'd be deathly jealous of these Kree.

He could risk blowing up anything that controlled the atmosphere and trigger an alarm, but that would put Jan in danger. And who knew, maybe he'd end up dead for his troubles anyway.

Well, if he was the diversion, he'd be the damn flashiest one they'd ever laid their eyes on. Tony readied his gauntlet. He'd resigned himself to death with the tumor. The chance to get here, after traveling the goddamned multiverse, was a gift.

Shame, though, that he'd never made good on his promise on intimately knowing an alien woman. Blame it on being hung up on old, hopeless crushes and guilt.

There were shots from around the corner, and Tony, god help the coward, froze at the sound of a gun cartridge exploding not even ten feet away. Shouting followed, and with a start, Tony realized those shots weren't meant for him. He spun around the corner, abruptly caught back at the sight.

One of the soldiers had turned his gun on the others. It was chaos, as many people getting hit by friendly fire than by the traitor. Tony got down on one knee, pulling out his ace in the hole.

“Going black now, Janet dear,” he said into his comm as he aimed.

The traitor flipped over one of the men, jumping and kicking off the wall. Some fancy acrobatics from that one. Too bad he wouldn't last much longer, as Tony locked on. He would have thanked him if he had the time.

The electric shock ran through the whole room; guns popped, circuits blew out on machines, and the crew fell to the floor, their communicators smoking after directly a well-aimed shock to the head to knock them unconscious.

Well, well. Tony grinned, standing up. That was a handy little trick in the Celestial handbook. Or, the understudy-of-the-understudy-of-the-Celestial. It hurt even his brain to wrap his mind around it. He shook his head, and took the moment to yank his faceplate off. It had been damaged, and had hampered his vision significantly during the fight. He took in his first full breath in what felt like ages.

The click of a cocked gun under his chin, and Tony gasped slowly as his head was forced backward, exposing his neck.

The traitor tilted his head, studying him, and how the hell had he gotten out of the range of fire?

Then the assailant lowered his gun, pulling off his...face? Tony looked in horror, as those beautiful genetically-modified features were ripped off like putty to reveal...

“ _Steve?_ ”

“Tony?” Steve gaped at him. He took a few steps back, running a hand through his wild and mussed hair. Combined with the black stealth suit, it made for quite the stunner. “It really is you. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Tony's throat was suddenly dry, and he swallowed. “Likewise, my dear Captain.”

Instead of a lovely scowl, Steve smiled back, and wow, that was quite the doozy. Almost gave Tony the vapors, there. Steve really must have gone through the wringer to look at him like that.

“What brings you here, Steve? Quite the trek you made to reunite with us.”

Steve frowned, glancing off to the side. “I wasn't expecting you here, actually. We're probably here for the same thing.”

“The Cosmic Cube? Huh. Well, wherever there's one of those, the Ultimates are sure to follow. That's our job, now that we failed our first one.” Protecting their nation, and later, their world. Tony liked to think their Earth was still around, in one of those undiscovered universes, and it was a matter of time before they returned home.

Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, he kept reminding himself.

Steve had an odd expression. “Ultimates. Right.”

“Although it makes me feel better that our sources have matched up...what _was_ your source?” 

Steve ran his hand through his hair again, making it stick up on end. “I didn't have any. The Cube brought me here, so I'm going to find it and get back home.”

Tony paused to stare at him. “They used their Cube to summon you? What do aliens want to do with Captain America?”

“I don't think I want to know,” Steve said wryly. 

“You'll have quite the story to tell when we're done with this.” Tony mused as Steve grimaced; Steve was the type to talk about that time he put the Hulk through a building like he was describing a run to the store. 

“No need to get so worked up, darling.” Tony slapped Steve on the back, and Steve stumbled forward.

Huh. Tony looked at his gauntlet, and back at Steve, who did look unnaturally pale. “Getting unsteady on your feet there, Cap?”

Steve didn't reply, and Tony thought of the last time he saw him, a flash of the white star on his uniform falling away from him. Tony's hand had been outstretched uselessly, and he'd lost his voice from the shouting and sobbing.

Part of him wanted to blurt it out, how much he'd missed him, how Steve's multiple deaths haunted his nightmares, how Tony Stark was the sad type of bastard fated to have life-changing epiphanies only when faced with death.

But, he wasn't sure he could take the inevitable awkward evasion as anything but a rejection.

He'd told Fury, at the beginning, that teams weren't for him, and look where he'd ended up. Just proved his point, really.

“We should find that Cosmic Cube,” Steve said tersely.

“Right. Of course. Well, good news is, I blew out all their comm units, so everyone should have been knocked out. The bad part: I took out our communications while I was at it, so poor Jan won't get a heads up you're here,” Tony shrugged. “I have the layout of the ship, but for what we'll be facing there, we'll be going in blind.”

Steve chuckled, and there was that smile again; Tony willed his knees not to buckle. “When do we not, Shellhead?”

Shellhead? Was that supposed to be an insult? Tony touched his helmet gingerly. Steve wasn't the sort to be passive-aggressive. Man had no qualms about telling you exactly what he thought to your face.

“More than that, you sure you'll be okay?” Tony asked carefully. “Not still suffering some side effects from the Cube, are you?” Tony was ready this time, though. He wasn't letting Steve out of his sight, and he'd do anything to get him out of here alive. 

“I'll live.” Steve glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Maybe you'll need to whip me into proper shape when we're back with some sparring?”

Well, that was...

Tony remembered the time he'd been clocked in the face by an angry Captain America, and shuddered. Even with his lifestyle as it was, he didn't  _enjoy_ pain, no matter the context. 

“So?”

“So?” Tony echoed.

“You sure I'm the only one who's off? Aren't you going to offer me a ride?” Steve asked.

How surprisingly honest and vulnerable of him. What an interesting side-effect of the Cube.

“Well,” Tony held out a hand, “okay, hop on, then.”

Tony expected Steve to sling an arm over his shoulder. Instead, Steve slipped an arm around his waist, and Tony nearly threw it right back off.

They stood there, and of course, it was Tony who broke first.

“Well, how do you expect me to hold you in place like that?” Tony asked.

“What are you going on about, Shellhead? We've done this plenty of times before,” Steve told him, and took Tony's arm and set it on his hip.

To the contrary, Tony thought, and it was a good thing he couldn't feel Steve through the armor. He didn't even have the faceplate to push down and hide the blush. So, he simply took a step and a hop, until they were in the air and breezing through the corridors.

He'd let himself be flustered by a centenarian. His past self would weep at the thought.

But what was supposed to happen, when it was _Captain America?_ It was unmistakable at this point. Steve Rogers was flirting with him, unabashedly, and it didn't help that Steve kept glancing over at him, like he was curious about Tony's reaction.

Tony swerved a corner, and Steve's grip on him tightened.

“You said that your job was collecting Cosmic Cubes. Are you saying you have them, now?”

Tony's nose wrinkled. “Goodness, no. You know what those things are capable of? I don't want to be responsible for accidentally blowing up half a planet. They're technically alive, so we just take them to a place where they can grow and wake up properly.”

No reply came, and in a situation where Steve grumbling about the future and its reality-bending boxes was actually warranted. “So, they're aboard your ship? The...Ultimates' ship?”

“Yes?”

“Well, then we don't need the Cosmic Cube here to get home, do we?”

Tony frowned at him. “You heard what I said about them being alive? Even if they're on a higher plane of existence, this is a rescue operation. That's what the Ultimates do.”

He set Steve down at their destination a little bit harder than necessary. Just because something wasn't _human_ didn't mean it wasn't worth saving. He got to work on the door, while Steve crossed his arms, leaning casually against the wall and watching him. Tony was still a bit peeved at him, and it was well enough, because he couldn't exactly show off his ass in this armor, even if Steve's gaze was following the curves of the armor's back.

“We'll get this, and then we're out of here,” Tony said, and the door slid open before them.

The device holding the Cube was easily dismantled with another handy Celestial tool. The Cube sat there, looking almost non-threatening with the force field shut down.

“So, we won,” Steve said, almost curious.

When Tony turned around, Steve's arms slipped around Tony's waist, and he smiled at him, slow and content. It felt like someone had just dropped a slug down Tony's back, and he shuddered.

“You okay there, Steve? You really must have hit your head.” Steve was shorter like this, when Tony was in the Armor. Tony tried to pull back, but Steve's arms kept him in place. Then he leaned in, and it was his eyes locking Tony still.

“I wanted to do this,” Steve whispered, “for a very long time.”

Then he tilted his head up and kissed Tony. Tony's mind blanked, and it didn't take long before Steve eased his lips open and slack. Tony groaned; he felt the rumbling deep in his chest, and Steve pressed in closer.

When they broke the kiss, Steve froze. He leaned back with Tony's repulsor pressed to the side of his head.

“Tony,” Steve said, hesitant. “What are you doing?”

“Adorable. You thought I didn't notice that little device you planted on me when you were trying to climb me like a tree on the way here? What is it, a bomb? How crude, Steve. But since you were so disgustingly over the top with your flirting, maybe your species doesn't understand the finer points of sublety. Or whatever it is you are.” Tony smiled, slowly. “But whatever you are, you'd still put up a good fight against little human ol' me, wouldn't you? What better time to get you to lower your guard than you thinking I'm putty in your hands?”

Steve's face distorted, and no version of Captain America could possibly look that ugly. The look of fury morphed, ad no, that was his face changing, and Tony had to restrain himself from flinching away, pressing the gauntlet further into the alien's head.

The Chitauri spat at him, and Tony nearly bit his tongue as it hit his face. A Chitauri with Steve's face, and oh god, there was only one way for them to take on their victim's appearance. Tony wanted to be sick.

“No matter, I have the Cube anyway,” it sneered at Tony. “Even if I only acted as Steve Rogers of Earth would act toward his Tony.”

“Well, joke's on you. I'm not from this Earth.” Tony triggered the repulsor, and his arm recoiled, sending him flying to the side. Fire raced up to his shoulder, and the armor diagnostics informed him his arm had been yanked out of his socket. He covered his head, but the Chitauri wasn't interested in him. The cube had toppled to the floor, and its eyes grew wide as it reached for it, maniacal laughter filling the room.

A finger's width away from the Cube, it stilled, and Tony looked up, and saw its head was gone.

“Oh, fuck.” Tony backed up as quickly as he could to the wall, watching the Chitauri head roll on the floor.

Something bounced against the wall with a loud clang, and was caught by someone who'd stepped out of the shadows. They lowered it, and the giant white star on the shield glinted, and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

“Steve.”

Steve studied him, and Tony could have cried for how much he missed his contempt.

Tony checked for falling debris, or exposed wiring capable of electrocuting, before he hurried over and took Steve up in a hug.

Steve froze, like he had when certain veterans and their families would sob and slobber against him when he'd first returned. He patted Tony's arm carefully, and well, that hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it.

“Jesus, I thought you'd been eaten,” Tony whispered.

“The Chitauri of this universe—I think they're called Skrulls? I don't think they do that here,” Steve said, his hand hovering over Tony's shoulders.

“Skrulls, Schmulls, it's dead now.” Tony backed off and looked at Steve, with his unkempt facial hair and near-pout. “But how aren't _you_ dead?”

Steve frowned at him. “Well, I fell at least a few hundred feet crushed by tons of seawater, in a stronghold on a hostile alien planet in an alternate universe. I don't know why you're so surprised I made it here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tony laughed, and he felt some tears fall out with his chuckles.

“Tony,” and Steve stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah,” Tony wiped away a tear, “god, yeah. We'll need to get Jan, oh, that'll be the touching reunion, wouldn't it?”

Steve's hand hadn't left his shoulder. “Tony.” Steve was surprisingly evasive, his eyes trained on the armor. “The alien—to you—he...took advantage...”

“Oh,” Tony said. “You saw that. Well, not your fault that an alien tried to sexually harass me.” He winked. “In fact, that used to be one of my favorite role-playing scenarios. Said aliens were much more shapely and far less murderous, but still.”

Steve looked distinctly unimpressed.

“It's fine. It helped me figure out that it wasn't actually you. I know you'd never put the moves on me, eh, Steve?” Tony clapped him back on the shoulder, proving their manly, platonic bond free of any pathetic unrequited pining.

Steve blinked back at him, and he looked rather thoughtful.

“One day,” he said carefully, “you'll get that arrogance knocked down a few pegs.”

His face was dead serious, and well, Tony had figured long ago he wasn't the type to joke about this sort of thing. Tony lifted his good arm, placing his hand atop Steve's on his shoulder, and smiled.

Time for him— _them—_ to rethink some priorities.

 


End file.
